Translucence
by TangiblyYours
Summary: The Rival Ships Challenge: "She was his frosted window glass, translucent but not transparent, allowing the sun to shine through but not enough to blind him. She was his warmth, his ease, his light." Draco/Astoria.


**Title:** Translucence

**Summary:** The Rival Ships Challenge: "She was his frosted window glass, translucent but not transparent, allowing the sun to shine through but not enough to blind him. She was his warmth, his ease, his _light_."

**Warnings: **No warnings for this one; it's very mild.**  
**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters involved. No copyright infringement intended.**  
**

**Challenge:** This story was written for The Rival Ships Challenge on the HPFC forum and created by Jg Rox. I was completely out of my element with this challenge, but I absolutely loved it.

**

* * *

**

The first time he saw her, he was at the Three Broomsticks, and the inexplicable draw was there almost immediately.

He found himself smiling involuntarily as he leaned against the pub bar, arms folded across his chest and a spark igniting in his slate gray eyes. He studied her carefully from where she stood on the opposite end of the bar talking to a group of people, obviously the focal point of everyone's interest. She was gesturing wildly, a smirk lighting her expression and her entire semblance radiating a fiery defiance that was obvious even from several yards away.

There was something about her, something innocent while simultaneously unbridled and feral, that caught his attention. He watched, his smile softening as she continued to talk, her hand almost knocking over a bottle of butterbeer as a result of her animated actions.

But what really caught his attention—_oh—_was the expressive, Carolina blue eyes that shone even in the unnatural, florescent lighting of the bar. There was a gleam in her unforgettable irises that burned bright with mischief and, perhaps, just an ounce of compassion.

Draco was interrupted from his scrutiny as Madam Rosmerta offered him the bottle of butterbeer that he had order previously. His gaze didn't falter in the slightest as he accepted the proffered bottle, taking a long pull before turning to face the woman behind the counter.

"Do you know who she is?" he found himself asking aloud, gesture to the girl who had captured his attention so thoroughly.

"Hm," Madam Rosmerta murmured noncommittally. She grasped a crystal wine glass and started cleaning it carefully before lifting her gaze and directing her attention to the aforementioned girl. "Oh, that's Astoria Greengrass... Comes here often with a group of friends," she paused again, appearing thoughtful. "She's a seventh year, I believe."

"Right," he said, taking another drink from his bottle and returning his attention to the girl across the room. "Thanks."

_Astoria Greengrass._

The name rang familiar in his thoughts, and he remembered immediately another girl from his year—Daphne Greengrass. He noticed a few similarities between the two, the dark chestnut hair and, if he remembered correctly, the blue eyes.

He found himself smiling yet again as the petite girl slammed her fists against the table, obviously trying to punctuate her point, before she threw her head back in laughter.

After several more moments of silently watching, Draco finally set down his half-full bottle of butterbeer and pulled his jacket tighter around his frame. He gave one last fleeting glace at the girl across the room before exiting the Three Broomstick without further thought.

He truly couldn't remember a time when he had ever smiled so much.

* * *

It was several weeks later before Draco returned to Hogsmeade, hands stuffed in the pockets of his dark gray, cashmere jacket as he headed toward Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop.

He exhaled sharply, his breath condensed into a withering smoke before his very eyes, and found himself staring up at the sky as he continued to walk. There was something about the frigid weather, the lingering gray clouds that harbored the color of his very irises, that soothed him. He enjoyed the cold, the way the temperature would cause an opaque layer of ice to cover his bedroom window every morning, and more importantly, the _snow._ It seemed pure to him—untouched and lucid—and he loved the way the light of the moon was reflected off from the white surface of the snow at night.

It was more difficult to find darkness in the winter—snow wasn't dark—and while he supposed several people would disagree with that, it was true for him.

Draco's reverie was broken as he felt another body collide with his, and his hands immediately shot out to stabilize the other person. His gaze focused on the pair crystalline blue eyes that had often presented themselves in his dreams over the past several weeks, and he could feel an impulsive smile settle across his features. "I'm sorry," he said, his hand still resting on the curve of her elbow. "I wasn't watching where I was going."

Astoria's dark hair fell past her shoulders in soft ringlets, a smile lifting the corners of her lips as she watched him for a moment. "No worries." Her voice was soft-spoken, a gentle lull that fit her delicate appearance admirably. She turned her head to the side slightly, studying him with a curious gaze. "You look familiar... Have I seen you somewhere before?"

"Draco Malfoy," he offered, dipping his head slightly.

"Ah, yes," she said, and her gaze seemed to explode with recognition, every emotion so translucent against the blue back-drop of her eyes. "You were in my sister's year—you know, Daphne? I've heard a lot about you, Draco Malfoy."

A benevolent smirk lifted the corners of his lip as he studied her yet again, noticing the confidence that she exuded, the warmth and what seemed to be a perpetual gleam of mischief. "Have you, now?"

She nodded and, taking Draco off guard, looped her arm through his and started walking in the opposite direction of the Quill Shop. Marveled by her boldness, Draco indulged her and allowed her to direct him through Hogsmeade with her arm nestled in the crook of his elbow.

There was something about this expressive girl that immediately intrigued Draco; the way she seemed so sure of herself, so determined and fierce, and he knew that she had a level of obstinacy that could rival his own.

"I'm Astoria, by the way." They continued walking through the town, the snow crunching beneath their feet and leaving behind four imprints. "_And_," she whispered conspiratorially, leaning in closer to him and staring pointedly at the ground. "I love the snow."

Draco once again found himself amused by her spontaneity, the abruptness of her statement causing him to chuckle softly. There was a fondness for this tiny girl already developing beneath his ribcage, wrapping itself around his heart and swimming through his veins; he briefly wondered what it was about her that had him so enamored at first glance.

Shaking himself from his thoughts, Draco realized that they had stopped, standing just outside the Three Broomstick. Astoria was facing him, her gaze smoldered with warmth and her hand still resting on the cusp of his arm. "Have a drink with me," she said softly, the silent question hidden within her words.

Without further preamble, Draco grasped the handle of the door, holding it open for her with a smile that could only be described as warm. "I'd love to."

* * *

Draco searched his surroundings with a sharp, slate gray eyes, his feet treading silently on the ice and snow of the expansive hillside. The snow was falling heavily from the dark sky, the wind causing it to drift across the ground's surface. It was foggy and cold and almost impossible to see more that five yards in front of him, but Draco couldn't help the inexplicable smile that lifted the corners of his lips.

Suddenly, a well-aimed snowball flew through the air, colliding with the side of his face and causing ice particles to mingle in his blond hair.

Draco wiped the wet remains of the snowball off from his face and turned in the direction of where it came from, noticing the lithe form that was doubled-over in laughter. Astoria's dark brown curls hung in her face as she bent over and clutched her side, her incomparable blue eyes alight with amusement.

Draco lunged forward, tackling the delicate body that he had grown so familiar with over the past few weeks, and cradled her gently as they both fell to the ground. The snow cushioned their fall, and Astoria's laughter ceased for only a moment with a soft_ 'oof' _before she was laughing once again.

He stared down at her, his weight supported by his arms and legs so that he didn't crush her. His smiles came easy now, soft and certain, and if there was anything in this world that could cause a natural smile to settle across his expression, it was _her_. Her warmth, her compassion and fierce flame of affection, her irrefutable determination and spontaneity, her unwavering confidence and desire for mischief—she was the epitome of perfection in his eyes.

"I cannot believe I've tolerated you for the past three and a half months," he murmured affectionately, his tone soft and teasing. Draco lifted a hand to her cheek, marveling at the light flush that had crept up her neck from the chill and exertion of their games.

"You?" she scoffed, her gaze kindling. "You're much more troublesome than I am." Astoria's words were just as fond as his had been, the sincerity of their emotions being conveyed through their gazes—so much warmth and ardor.

With a small chuckle, Draco leaned down and pressed a soft, chaste kiss to her chilled lips. She responded by smiling into the kiss, pressing closer and applying just an ounce of pressure. He had longed for this for so many years, this ease and simplicity, this unconditional trust and caring for another person. No more lies, no more demands, no more hiding, no more darkness, and no more pretending to be something he wasn't, just _love._

He pulled back and grinned down at her, drowning in the blue eyes that had a few speckles of gray in them. Draco stood up and offered her a hand, not releasing it as they walked towards his cabin a few miles outside of Hogsmeade.

"Hot chocolate?" she asked quietly. A light flush porcelain skin, dark chestnut hair contrasting with the white snow, soft lips that had turned pallid from the chill, and simmering blue eyes.

She was his frosted window glass, translucent but not transparent, allowing the sun to shine through but not enough to blind him. She was his warmth, his ease, his _light_.

And to him, she was perfect.

* * *

**Author's Note:** As I've said previously, I was completely out of my element with this one... However, I had a ton of fun writing it. It was definitely different and experimental; it gave me the opportunity to play around with different characterizations and styles. I hope that everyone enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Also, I hope that it's believable and realistic enough.

I would love to hear some thoughts and opinions on this, so please review?

Thanks!


End file.
